Only The Good Die Young
by thatiranianphantom
Summary: An old connection from David Rossi's past brings him together with the Jeffersonian Institution as they struggle to save one of their own. A collaboration of authors.
1. Paris, 1979

**Another fic, another collaboration! This is me and CatherineJosephineMarie007 again, reunited at last (the Douglas to my Julian). This is a Bones/Criminal Minds crossover fic, to tide us over in the impossibly long time until November, when Bones returns. **

**For the record, the first part was my idea and CMJ007 wrote it, much to her own horror :P **

**Enjoy, and review, please and thank you!**

**CMJ007 and Queequg417**

Chapter 1: Past and Present

Paris, 1979

David Rossi placed his hands over his ears. That guy with the spaceship guitar was making his ears bleed. Thankfully, he thought it was almost over,

"Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Noddy Comet!" The emcee screamed as the spandex covered lead guitarist stepped away from the mic and shook his hair out of his face. The band left with one last wave, and Dave headed for the bar.

"Buy you something?" an English voice asked.

Dave turned to see "Noddy" grinning smugly. Never one to turn down a free drink, Dave nodded.

"Yeah, beer, thanks."

"Noddy" gestured to the leather-clad bartender.

"American?"

"Yeah."

"Hot."

"Um…thanks?"

Noddy grinned and jerked his head backwards.

"Come on, I'll show you the greenroom."

A/N: We'll reimburse for any lobotomies that may have needed to take place after that :P Just a taste, stay tuned!


	2. The ReMeeting

**A/N: We are both so impressed that a 250 word chapter got 2 reviews! Thanks SO much to those who took that initiative! We're hoping this one has a bit more content! We're also getting into pairing for this story. It'll JJ/Rossi (that's for CMJ007 :P) BB, Hotch/Prentiss, and Cadgins (Cam/Hodgins, we both kind of prefer it to Hodgela )**

**Anyhow, enjoy and review, please and thank you!**

Washington, 2011

David Rossi couldn't quite believe his eyes. In fact, he _didn't_ believe his eyes. Thirty years faded a picture that was never clear to begin with, didn't it?

Just his luck though, really. Right when his life was starting to work out for him, the single biggest embarrassment of his past was sitting in a bar in a DC diner, with a brunette couple.

_Don`t look don`t look don't look_, his mind screamed.

And then the man turned.

And Rossi looked.

At first, Gordon-Gordon Wyatt, formerly of Noddy Comet, met his eyes with a mirroring astonished (and more than a little embarrassed) gaze.

"David?" he tried.

The name made David Rossi's face reach a shade of red he hadn't before thought possible.

"Gordon?" he groaned.

The ringing bell of the door startled both men, and Rossi nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand slipping into his.

"Jayje," he breathed as a blonde head appeared next to him.

The brunette couple turned at the sound, but Dave Rossi, profiler extrordinaire, was too busy wishing the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

Gordon, however, apparently felt no such affliction. He turned to JJ, extending a friendly hand.

"Oh hello," Wyatt smiled a far-too familiar smile. "Gordon, Gordon Wyatt."

"JJ Jareau," his girlfriend smiled politely, shaking the Briton's hand. She looked at him, his dilated pupils and flushed face. Then she asked "how do you two know each other?"

"Well," Gordon began, but Dave cut him off.

"Gordon and I met years ago, when he was into glam rock."

"Among other things," Wyatt winked at JJ. "Oh, where are my manners? These are former colleages of mine, Seeley Booth and Temperance Brennan."

The two couples shook hands.

"Actually, you all have something in common," Wyatt gestured the badges partially hidden by their jackets. "The FBI."

"Wait a minute, you're _the_ David Rossi?" Booth asked joyfully. "It's an honor."

"Who?" Brennan asked.

"David Rossi is legendary," Booth explained. "The man who created the BAU. Behavioural Analysis Unit," he clarified.

"Psychology," Brennan concluded, her tone the equivalent of an eye-roll.

"You don't believe. You're not the first," Dave and JJ shared a secret smile. "But you'd be surprised what a well-trained eye can deduce, Dr. Brennan."

"Such as? I'd be very interested in a demonstration," Temperance said.

"You're pregnant, and by Agent Booth's behaviour, the baby is his," Rossi said mildly.

"You're probably early in the pregnancy," JJ picked up. "Nine weeks, maybe less."

She caressed her own bump. "I'm almost 10."

"And you and Agent Rossi – you're, what, a couple?"

"Yes, we are," JJ smiled.

"Whoa, Rossi, well done!" Booth grinned, slapping the other man on the back.

Temperance gave him a dangerous look.

"Oh, no, no, no," Booth shook his head. "I didn't mean – no, you think – no, it's just…I love you?"

Temperance rolled her eyes and punched his shoulder, turning back to her ice cream.

**(***)**

Washington, DC, 2011: Behavioural Analysis Unit

The "mystery woman", as Penelope had mentally christened her, got off the elevator of the BAU floor. Garcia followed, bright orange heels clicking on the linoleum. This woman, who was dressed head to toe in a black burka, head scarf, veil and all. She'd never looked up when she boarded the elevator, eyes cast demurely downward the whole time. But Garcia needed to see what she wanted.

Mystery Woman continued through the bullpen, drawing several interested and suspicious glances from the other agents. Without looking up, the woman approached Hotch's office, knocking on the door.

"Come in," was the gruff reply from inside.

Mystery Woman entered and closed the door behind her. There was silence, then Hotch threw open the door and barked "Morgan, Reid, Garcia – grab JJ." He knocked on the door and disappeared again.

"What's up with that?" Morgan asked as Reid sped off to get JJ from her office.

"Don't know," Garcia replied, following him. Hotch had closed his blinds, and ordered JJ to shut the door, as she was the last one in.

There, sitting on Hotch's sofa, was the mystery woman: Emily Prentiss.

**(***)**


End file.
